A Common Bond
by SylvaDragon
Summary: Bellatrix Lestrange tells the story of how she came to love Lord Voldemort. Of how a common bond grew into a love and desire which could never be returned. Rated M for Mature content.


A Common Bond

_I have altered the timeline in this story, so that Bellatrix attended Hogwarts at the same time as Tom Riddle._

_The story begins during the final battle._

_. _

As I stood there watching him die, the only time I'd ever seen anyone die without feeling that familiar thrill rise within me, I found myself wondering how it was that I, Bellatrix Lestrange, had permitted myself to come to love this half blood, to bow before him and call him Dark Lord. The noise of the continuing battle seemed to fade into nothingness as memories surged over me, seeming to almost become reality.

I had first noticed him when we were both students at Hogwarts. He had not been Lord Voldemort then, just plain Tom Riddle, a Slytherin in his fourth year at Hogwarts just like me. Oh he was handsome, there was no denying that, he always had an adoring crowd of sickeningly sychophantic girls simpering around him. It was the flash of cruelty in his cold dark eyes that captured my attention though, and I began to watch him as he toyed with their emotions so subtly that those foolish little girls never even noticed. I alone saw the pleasure in his eyes as their hearts broke in a sea of tears, only to be mended and broken again and again, like puppets that tossed and danced at his merest whim. In him I saw the same delight in tormenting others that I too felt, and so my fascination, my desire for the boy who would become the greatest dark wizard of all time began.

I soon noticed that one other watched him too, with infuriatingly bright eyes that saw and guessed far too much. I saw how the boy changed when he felt Dumbledore's eyes upon him, how he hid his true nature behind a facade of charm. For at this time despite my fascination I did not deem this mudblood worthy of a name, and so in my mind he was always the boy, nothing more. Little did I know how soon that would change.

I was of course one of the few who knew the boy's heritage. For I was of the noble and pure blooded house of Black, as such it was my duty to know the bloodlines of everyone in the school - only then could I be sure not to associate with those who were beneath me.

Despite myself I continued to watch him hungrily, lustily, till one day I felt his gaze fixed on me as his mouth twisted briefly into a sadistic smile. I sneered contemptuously, how dare this filthy mudblood stare at me so insolently, ignored the thrill that his dark intense perusal evoked in me.

That night I lay alone in the Slytherin dormitory savouring the absence of the two half blood girls that normally polluted the very air with their presence. Both of them had been taken suddenly ill earlier that day - I did not wish them a speedy recovery, instead I indulged myself with fantasising that they would not recover at all. I was so intent upon my dreams of a long drawn out death for them that I failed to notice the presence of another in the darkness. His hand round my throat, crushing the air from my lungs wrenched me from my imaginings. I barely had time to realise that it was the mudblood boy when I felt him enter my mind. He expected me to weep, to beg for life, I could feel it, he was testing me.

His fingers tightened round my throat pressing bruisingly against my flesh. Oh I was afraid but I was excited too, the power I sensed in him enthralled me, and so I did what I had never done before with anyone - I surrendered, letting him wander through my mind at will, revelling in his cold cruel presence, in what he might be capable of, might become. As he continued his exploration I pushed against him just enough to let him know that I could have resisted had I wished to. That was the first time I heard his voice in my mind, _'You are different ... not like the others ... you are like me.' _Our eyes locked as his lips hovered within an inch of mine, and I felt a different kind of excitement. It coursed through my veins like an electric current as my lips parted invitingly. He drew closer, ever closer, then suddenly he was gone, my mind empty and devoid of him. The only reminder of his presence the icy taunting laugh that hung in the air.

My fists clenched tightly as I lay in the empty room, I was furious with myself. I had let a filthy mudblood touch me, permitted him to enter my mind and made no effort to stop him. I was disgusted with my failure, and yet I could not deny his magnetism, the effect he had upon me. Unable to deal with the sea of unfamiliar emotions that surged within me, I thrust the covers angrily from me and walked across the cold stone floor to stare into the mirror on the wall.

My skin still tingled where his hand had closed round my throat, gazing into the mirror I saw the beginnings of a purple bruise forming on my pale white skin. Slowly my hand reached up to caress it, my fingers running lightly over the mark, savouring the feel of the indentations that his fingers had left. I could almost feel his breath upon my icy cheek, his mouth so close to mine. My heart pounded and my lips parted as though inviting a kiss, as I recalled the cruelty in his mocking laugh, the thrill of the latent power and darkness that I had sensed in him. Clearly one like him could only be a pure blood. Mudbloods were inferior, a mudblood could never have such power. There was only one explanation, obviously there had been an error in my research and Tom Riddle was pure blood like myself.

After that, though I would never have admitted it at the time, my life was his and there was an unspoken bond between us. We began to spend time together secretly, for he insisted that his association with me be a secret. Doubtless he did not want to sully his good reputation with the marjority of the professors by associating with a known troublemaker like me. This amused me, delighted me, for he fooled them so very easily and none of them even guessed what he was really like, apart from one.

Dumbledore infuriated me with his interference. He was always there watching with those loathsome blue eyes of his. He even dared to draw me aside one day, and attempt to warn me about the dangers of associating with Tom. What right did he have to interfere like that ? Why couldn't he just leave us alone ?

"Bellatrix I am worried about you ..." Dumbledore said in that revoltingly gentle voice of his, as he rested his hand lightly on my shoulder, a touch that made my skin crawl. "Be careful that you do not start down a path from which there is no return."

We both knew to whom he referred, and I did not bother to mask my contempt for Dumbledore and his warnings. "I suggest that you mind your own business, after all you have no right to tell me who I may associate with." I snarled as I drew back in disgust from his touch."You are not even head of my house." I added contemptuously.

Dumbledore's eyes flashed briefly as he heard my answer and saw the insolence in my face, and for a moment I thought he might actually get angry, but then his face saddened and he sighed softly. Such weakness sickened me, and I did not wait to be dismissed but swept from his presence in a manner which almost dared the fool to call me back. He did not do so though, and I was both triumphant and filled with contempt.

It was the summer after my fifth year at Hogwarts, and I was spending the holiday at my Uncle's country manor. As I stood by the open window of my chambers gazing up at the dark midnight skies, I thought how delighted I was not to be at Grimmauld Place for the holidays. It was impossible there to escape the noise and stench of the muggle filled streets that surrounded us. The thought that muggles lived on either side of us sickened me. If only there were not laws against such things, I could at least have amused myself when there by practising my use of crucio on any muggle foolish enough to get too close. My lips curled in disdain and fury, it was the fault of fools like Dumbledore that we wizards had to hide, had to sneak around secretly as though afraid, when it was muggles who should fear us.

Thinking of Dumbledore reminded me of what had happened that year - the unexplained injuries, the rumours that the legendary Chamber of Secrets had been reopened. It had delighted me to see Dumbledore so worried. The duller his eyes grew, the gaunter his expression became, the more I revelled in it. For I longed for vengance against Dumbledore for his interference and spying. My lips curved into a smile - one day Dumbledore would die and I would be there to see it, to triumph in his passing. With luck his death would be at my own hand.

My eyes gleamed and I murmured the words Avada Kedavra like a promise to myself. One day I would do more than just whisper them. One day I would invoke their full power, see their full effect. One longed for day I would kill for no other reason than my own curiosity and pleasure.

My only regret had been that only one mudblood had died. When that first death had happened I had thought it was the beginning, that finally Hogwarts would be cleansed of those who were not worthy to be there. I had seen the girl's cold dead corpse carried from the castle, though she was shrouded in cloth one of her hands dangled losely from beneath the dark fabric, stiff and devoid of colour. I could barely surpress the ecstatic laughter that rose in my throat as I hid behind the stone pillar near the main door.

Suddenly I had heard Tom Riddle's voice, and then Dumbledore answering him. Peering round the thick stone pillar I had seen them deep in conversation, no matter how hard I tried I could not hear what was said. I had seen the fury that blazed momentarily across Tom's face as he turned away from Dumbledore though. I never did know what was said that day, for Tom who had become increasingly secretive that year, refused to tell me and I did not dare to question him too much. One thing I did know though was that after that there were no more injuries, no more deaths. Hogwarts continued to be polluted by the foul offspring of blood traitors, mudbloods and muggles.

My hand clenched round my wand, one day those blood traitors who had betrayed wizards would suffer, one day there would be retribution. Suddenly there was a faint pop behind me and I spun to see the tall form of Tom Riddle standing in the centre of my chambers. He was robed all in black captured in the burning glow of the lamp, only his face visible. Fire burned in his eyes like never before, he was glorious, so intensely blazingly alive, so much so that the air around him seemed almost to vibrate with his triumph.

I knew at once that he had killed, vengefully and joyously he had taken life. The knowledge rendered me speechless, all I could do was marvel at his power and radiance. As I gazed at him in silence he advanced on me, pushing me back on to the bed, and I felt him capture my mind. I gasped at how deathly his power had become, it left me almost breathless with excitement.

"Do you want to see what it was like to kill, Bellatrix ?" He hissed, dark eyes boring into me.

"Yes." I gasped as the blood craving surged within me, and my tongue caressed my lips as though I felt a lover's kiss upon my mouth.

His hand thrust me back against the bed, his face close to mine. "Then beg, Bellatrix, beg ... For I am your master now, am I not ? For I have dared to do what you could only dream of." His finger nail traced a line along my neck, it's sharp pointed tip coming to rest against my throat. As the first drop of blood flowed across my skin, my breath rasped in my throat growing fast and heavy.

As he saw my pleasure he laughed coldly and withdrew his teasing sadistic finger. "I am no longer Tom Riddle, Bellatrix. I am reborn. I have assumed my true identity as Lord Voldemort and I shall be all powerful, the greatest dark wizard of all time. " His voice rang with triumph and power, and I desired him like never before, only barely surpressed the lustful moan that roase within my throat. "Soon there will be no more need to hide, to pretend, even that fool Dumbledore shall bow before me. I have tasted death and now I shall conquer it."

"Show me ..." I pleaded hungrily.

I felt his finger caress my cheek briefly, the only time he ever touched me with any degree of affection. "Ah Bellatrix how could I deny you such pleasure ..." He whispered in my ear, his breath burning hot against my neck.

I felt him thrust into my mind as he shared his chosen memories with me, saw him draw his wand and point it unwaveringly at the huddled group of two men and a woman. I saw the terror in their eyes as the incantation Avada Kedavra lept from his lips and the green bolt of light flew towards them, saw them fall mere shells to the ground. More than that though I felt what it was like to kill, how glorious the power over life and death was, and I writhed beneath him sensuously.

As the memory ended I ran my hands lustfully over his taut body, pressed against him and spread myself invitingly. Felt him laugh against me in the same high pitched way as when he had killed earlier that day, the sound only intensified my desire. "Do you want me ?" he hissed venomously.

"Yes !" I growled, as my nails tore at his clothing.

Suddenly my wrists were grasped tightly in his, and I was held motionless beneath him. "Then you shall not have me." He snarled as he flung me from the bed as though I disgusted him. The fury that blazed from his eyes as I sprawled on the dusty floor kept me motionless, but I was dammed if I would surrender fully, my eyes locked with his, challenged him, defied him, and for a moment I saw my death in his face as he pointed his wand at me. My gaze did not leave his face though, and I neither flinched or begged for mercy - perhaps it was that which saved me.

After an endless silence he spoke. "Very well Bellatrix you shall have your wish, I will make you mine." He paused for a moment and then whispered, "but not in the way you would wish."

A flick of his wand and I spun helplessly in the air, then slammed face first into the cold hard stone floor. Before I could rise my robes were torn from my back, his hand pinning me to the ground with such force that I had no choice other than to remain there. My heart hammered against the rough floor, echoing in my head, I was both afraid and more aroused than I had ever been before.

That was the night he put his mark upon me, not an act of love but of ownership. For he was incapable of love, and that was the greatest delight and the greatest sorrow of all. Years later he would mark me as he marked all his Death Eaters, but it was his name, the words _'Lord Voldemort'_, etched in my skin with my own blood which I bore with the greatest pride and secrecy. For I was the first one that he marked as his. It was sweet agony, a branding that thrilled me so that I writhed and moaned with desire, my screams of pain and ectasy echoing in the night.

I dragged myself from the world of memories and stared frantically down at him. He could not die, he was the Dark Lord, invunerable all powerful, he could not ... disbelieving I stared down at him, at his cold dead face. Tears blinded my vision, I would avenge my Lord's death. Screaming his name I plunged into the heat of battle, I would kill as many of them as I could, in his name they would die.

The first one I saw was the muggle loving Weasley woman, wand drawn I flung myself at her - she would be the first of many to pay for my Lord's death. Before I could cast my first spell I felt a bolt of magic knock me from my feet, sending me hammering to the ground. As my final breath left my body the last word I heard was "Bitch !" Then all was neverending darkness.

_Author's Notes_

_I never would have written a Bellatrix Voldemort story if it weren't for Skewtkeeper challenging me to write one, so I think I must either thank her for the idea or glare at her for giving me such a hard challenge. :D I don't even really like Bellatrix, but it was odd just at the end of the story I almost began to like her. MMAD is still my first and only true love in ships, and I will not give up writing Albus Minerva stories. This was just a one off. _

_I don't know where all the dark stuff came from, *covers face and blushes.* :D Please review. I would love to hear what people think of this, the darkest most explicit story I have ever written. _


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